Sur la route de Nairobi

Although I wouldn't say this is a great movie, it is definitely an entertaining one.

The film tells the mostly true story of the fairly outrageous goings on amongst upper class Britons in Kenya during WW2. If the film does anything, it captures that outrageous spirit perfectly.

Aging Sir John Henry Delves Broughton (Joss Ackland) leaves war-torn England with his beautiful young wife, Diana (Greta Scacchi), to oversee his properties in British Kenya. They join other ex-pat aristocrats in the incongruously named Happy Valley community. Although cocooned from the war in Europe, the denizens of the valley are completely at the mercy of the boredom generated by their privileged lifestyles, and their overheated libidos.

They joyously encourage new arrivals to cheat on their partners, and then just as joyously inform the other halves about what is going on. Broughton begins to realise that he has something more disturbing than German bombs and falling commodity prices to worry about when Diana begins an open affair with Josslyn Hay, the Earl of Erroll (Charles Dance).

Eventually it all ends in tears, murder and suicide.

The film was not successful at the box office, and it's hard to pick just what put people off. However there is a fair amount of nudity in the film, which I think still tends to alienate mainstream audiences. Maybe the whole thing sounded too unsavoury - Diana is irresistible to males, especially older ones with even Trevor Howard's character peeping at her in the bath. There isn't anyone in the story whose intentions are strictly honourable.

But with that said, the performances are fascinating. Joss Ackland is superb; we feel his humiliation as the virile Erroll offers Diana what he can't.

The 1940's probably weren't the most flattering period for fashions, however Greta Scacchi looks stunning in them - she reminded me of Lana Turner in "The Postman Always Rings Twice".

Charles Dance exudes an element of danger, much like Vincent Cassel. Tall and lithe, he wears black tie beautifully, but when he strips down you see how fit and agile he is - not a man to be trifled with.

"White Mischief" has a certain pace and style and glides by easily. It stays in the memory, and is a long way from being a bad movie.

Seldom has social rot been more beautifully photographed than here. It's 1940. Bombs are raining down on London, soldiers are dying across Europe, Hitler is on the rise, yet not a drop of alcohol is being spilled by the rich and idle colonialists of British east Africa. Time is spent drinking and gossiping, drinking and swapping mates, drinking and dancing, and drinking and cross-dressing. It's all really rather empty and boring, sort of a sub-Saharan "La Dolce Vita", summed up in the death-mask visage of the sumptuous Greta Scacchi. Once jealousy takes hold, it's fun to watch the emotions build and shake loose behind these perfectly mannered mannikins.

Based on an actual murder case, the movie is salvaged from cliché by the elegantly understated style of the film-makers, who know how to both seduce and make a subtle point. Two scenes stay with me. A black man-servant sets up targets for practicing colonialists and narrowly escapes being shot in the process. The episode passes quickly, but it's evident the elitist whites take no notice of what almost happened -- a whole little world captured in one fleeting event. The other is the deathless and x-rated line -- "Oh my God! Not another f...king beautiful day." -- uttered by the super-jaded Sarah Miles as she surveys yet one more splendorous sunrise from the veranda of one of the film's many lush mansions. For contrast, there is John Hurt's scruffy and enigmatic "Gilbert", reputedly the richest man in Kenya, and a fascinating study in laconic reserve. What exactly is going on behind that wide- eyed stare and silent tongue -- envy? disgust? It's probably best that we never know. Anyway, this is an all-around first rate production that qualifies for permanent cult status and promises to remain with you long after the final scene has faded from view.

Basic Instinct set in Kenya at the end of Art Deco era which also marks the beginning of WWII. That means, the costumes and sets are gorgeous. Bravo! Greta Scacchi is stunning and we get full frontal nudity from her and Charles Dance... and everybody else. Greta Scacchi looks like a proper Hollywood golden age movie star, just looking at her perfect nails and hairdo makes me forget about the trivialities such as the depth of the character, etc. Every frame is gorgeous and perfectly lit. And the decadence - the drug use, the orgies, the masturbation to a corpse in a morgue, that's all glorious to watch in this dull era of superhero films and sequels and dramas that boast 'strong' female characters. It only lacks more... well, nudity. I feel that the romance between the two main protagonists ends too quickly for us to give a damn. But maybe that would have turned it into a 'soapy' melodrama. Maybe we can't relate to the whole situations because the characters have very few or zero redeeming qualities and, after all, they are the idle rich - we are not, but still. The film has a TV feel to it, like one of those Agatha Christie adaptations, which I'm not sure is bad; I adore these films. British aristocracy stuck in their lavish mansions; that's been a part of the Gothic lore ever since the folk tales were invented, and I'm sure it's them who invented them. This film is very dreamy and at the same time scary. There's a sense of a curse, that all the characters have been cursed, especially in the last scene which is like a picnic with the dead.

Was well into the film before I realized it was based on the factual story of a famous murder case. I was transported and still feel that way every time I get a chance to enjoy it again. I forgot who the actors were-they became the characters. That's how you know a film is splendid. I love the restraint of a fine British actor. No words are wasted. A glance tells it all. Everyone in the cast should be knighted by the Queen! I'll drop her Majesty a line right away. Chloe

Circa World War II a grisly - but rich- old buffer and his far-too-young-for-him wife enjoy the high life in Kenya's Happy Valley. However their happiness proves sadly short lived. Based on a famous true life case.

Interesting approach to the "central" crime-celeb subject. While many would have plunged straight in to the murder-mystery to get the movie off with a bang - not here. This is a lesson in restraint.

This film seems to view the crime of secondary importance to atmosphere and the establishment of character and order. This is probably wise, because the mystery part of the crime is rather weak and one-sided. Especially in the manner the story is told.

(While tying to be true to the facts there is more nodding and winking going on here than in a New York gay bar!)

You can't complain about production values and acting, they are only of the very first order. Charles Dance was an actor born in to the wrong age - if the studio system had got a hold of him they could have turned him in to a superstar. He doesn't have enough to do here - but he does this "cad" act well enough.

Kenya is made to look like heaven on earth - if you are white and well off that is. Here life is one big party with plenty of sun, sea and sex - with an army of cheap black labour to do any real work.

The gin and tonic set form their own little England allowing the sex games to go on a bit further than at home because there are no prying eyes.

If any movie showcased Scacchi's ample prime-time charms is this one. I don't know if the lady is a naturist in real life, but she never looks that bothered about whether she is wearing clothes or not. Her classy English accent further convinces you that if any woman was worth killing over it is her.

(In interviews she talks about the audience getting tired of seeing her breasts!)

Watching the film is rather like watching the film Titanic. You realize that everything you see is going to be destroyed, while those on the screen sail on without a care in the world.

If the central crime had been more interesting and more ambiguous I might have enjoyed it more. A clear case of a film being rather weighed down by being based on facts rather than having the freedom of total fiction.